Sawakita Tetsuji hadn't sat down once since the duel between Sawakita Eiji and Rukawa Kaede began. Every time his son scored, he cheered wildly, completely losing his usual composure.
From a short distance away, Nango Chiyuo watched with growing irritation, veins nearly popping.
You little brat…
How long are you going to wait?!
Are you trying to piss me off to death?!
Everyone in Shohoku knew one thing very clearly—
Rukawa Kaede could not sustain this level of offensive efficiency forever.
And Nango Kōichirō knew it too.
It's my turn.
But first—
Rukawa had to finish defending this possession.
Sawakita was extremely aware of Rukawa's current physical state.
And because of that—
He showed no mercy.
A quick crossover.
An explosive burst.
With terrifying acceleration, Sawakita blew past Rukawa in a single step once again. He stopped abruptly, rose into the air, and calmly released a mid-range jumper.
Swish.
The commentator shook his head in awe.
"Unbelievable! Sawakita Eiji's mid-range jumper is simply flawless! Truly worthy of the ace!"
As he jogged back on defense, Sawakita cast a sideways glance at Rukawa, the faint curve of a smile tugging at his lips—
I won.
Rukawa clenched his teeth and was about to charge forward in response—
"Enough."
Nango stopped him.
"I'll take him," Nango said calmly. "You go guard Fukatsu and recover a bit."
Rukawa's lips parted instinctively.
"No—"
Before the word could leave his mouth, Nango added flatly:
"Which do you prefer—being subbed out because you're exhausted, or staying on the court and resting while guarding Fukatsu?"
Rukawa froze.
…Being benched was unacceptable.
Without another word, he turned and moved to his defensive assignment.
Nango dribbled into the frontcourt, stopping at the top of the arc.
This time, he didn't look around.
His eyes were locked squarely on Sawakita.
Sawakita's eyes lit up immediately.
"Oh?" he grinned. "Is it finally your turn?"
"That's right."
Nango tilted his head slightly, a faint smile appearing.
"Are you ready?"
"Cut the crap!" Sawakita bent lower, stepping forward aggressively. "Come on!"
Nango palmed the ball firmly with his right hand, using his left forearm to shield Sawakita away. With a subtle shove to create space, he planted his right foot—
Boom!
A powerful step.
He exploded forward.
"Don't underestimate me!"
Sawakita reacted instantly, matching him stride for stride, clinging tightly to Nango's left side as they charged toward the paint.
Seeing this, Nobe stepped up decisively, moving in to double-team.
Left—Sawakita.
Front—Nobe.
Normally, the obvious choice would be to veer right.
But Nango didn't.
One step before reaching Nobe, he gathered the ball and jumped.
Sawakita leapt with him.
From the stands, Sawakita Tetsuji frowned slightly.
"Is he really forcing it…? That's reckless."
Even knowing Nango's extraordinary physique, he couldn't approve of such a direct collision.
Meanwhile, Nango Chiyuo was nearly vibrating with rage.
He leaned forward, hands on his knees, cursing internally—
You damn brat!
If you miss this, don't even think about getting allowance ever again!
Run him over!
Nobe jumped, arms raised high, his body forming a solid wall. His job was simple—block the path and let Sawakita contest the shot.
Then—
Bang!
A brutal collision.
Nobe was sent flying backward, losing his balance and crashing to the floor.
Using the opening, Nango pulled the ball tight to his chest and flipped it toward the rim.
Sawakita reached—
But Nango's broad frame completely sealed him off.
He could only watch.
Swish.
The ball dropped cleanly through the net.
The head referee hesitated and glanced toward the baseline.
The baseline referee shook his head calmly.
No foul. Clean play.
"Yes!"
Nango Chiyuo clenched his fist hard, barely containing himself. His eyes flicked briefly toward Sawakita Tetsuji—
But the latter only assumed he was just another Shohoku fan and paid no mind.
Ikegami frowned slightly and murmured,
"Nango's breakthrough style… it's starting to resemble Maki's."
Sendo nodded in agreement.
"You're right. He's learned how to use his body far better. Compared to the Prefectural Tournament, he's changed a lot."
Sawakita walked back on offense, muttering to himself.
This guy's body is a real problem…
Once he gets momentum, stopping him is hard.
I'll have to disrupt his dribble—or just steal it outright.
Against most players, the sheer difference in size and strength would already end the thought of a one-on-one.
But Sawakita wasn't most players.
Not even close.
In fact—
He was excited.
I'm going to America soon.
Guys like him—bigger, stronger, maybe even faster—will be everywhere.
If I back down now, my basketball ends here.
He wanted to know—
How far he could go.
Nango Kōichirō… bring it on.
Nango narrowed his eyes slightly.
For some reason, Sawakita felt… different now.
"Angry?" Nango thought.
"…Good."
"The best high school player in Japan—let me see your real strength."
Noticing that Nango wasn't denying Sawakita the ball the way he had earlier, Fukatsu frowned.
So he only wants Sawakita?
That bastard… he's really looking down on people.
The commentator's voice trembled with excitement.
"Sawakita has the ball again! And this time—he's being guarded by Shohoku's number 13, Nango Kōichirō! Taller than Rukawa Kaede—can he stop the ace?!"
Sawakita faked repeatedly.
But Nango didn't budge.
Arms spread wide, feet staggered, he completely enveloped Sawakita's space.
He won't pass, Nango thought calmly.
Only shoot—or break through.
And with my height—
He won't shoot.
Sawakita raised an eyebrow.
Then let's settle this with speed.
The ball shifted to his right hand.
His right foot slammed into the floor.
Boom!
One step.
That was all it took.
So fast!
Even knowing it in advance, Nango was shocked.
Sawakita's first step was unquestionably the best among forwards—a terrifying weapon.
Nango still had a chance—
A steal from behind.
A chase-down block.
But not this time.
Sawakita had already finished the layup before Akagi or Sakuragi could rotate over.
Kiyota wiped cold sweat from his forehead.
"Even Nango got beaten off the dribble… This guy is insane."
"Of course," Maki said calmly.
"The title of Japan's best isn't given for nothing."
Then he smiled faintly.
"But their duel… has only just begun."
Having faced both of them, he knew—
Nango wouldn't let Sannoh win easily.
And he certainly wouldn't lose this matchup without a fight.
Nango glanced sideways at the smiling Sawakita Tetsuji and snorted internally.
We'll see.